Beat Back: Andy Biersack
by Sueszi
Summary: A misjudged blonde stumbles upon a man who claims to be known world-wide; with her awkward and straightforward questions, she finds out about him far more than what's provided on his Wikipedia page. Jude Hendrix loses herself in his world; her morals are questioned, her priorities become messy and so do her beliefs. How will her life unfold upon meeting Andrew Dennis Biersack?
1. Fullmetal Alchemist

I am _not_ my hair.

People always assumed that blondes were dumb, or just wanted to have fun. I couldn't _completely_ disagree with the latter, because who _wouldn't_ want to just have fun?

But one thing's for sure; I am _not_ dumb. Blondes are not dumb, damn it.

My alarm clock went off as I pondered the thought, grabbing onto my hair and pulling it up high above my head.

 _18:15_

Putting on my off-white, silk T-shirt, I raced to the door and grabbed my coat and little red umbrella - which I deserved an applause for since not many women can run in high heels, for that matter.

It was raining cats and dogs out there and there was no way in _hell_ I was going to drive my freshly coated baby blue Gran Coupé – six series, mind you – in such a weather. Thankfully though, it was safely covered up in the same spot it's been parked in for the last four years. Then again, it wasn't a _free_ parking, so I shouldn't have been expecting anyone else to park in there until I...well, die.

I shut the door behind me, straightening my glasses and dusting off my jeans as I hoisted my black hand-bag at the crook of my elbow. For a hand-bag, it was pretty large in size and spacious from the inside, devouring my graphic novel just right.

Pulling out my favorite shade of Mac lipstick, I clicked on the elevator button and waited.

I was already running late, but now, 'late' was more of an understatement. Plus, I had to take the freaking _bus_ to work, which meant that I was going to spend a lot more time on the road. And, who _knows_ how bad the traffic is in this weather?

A groan resounded in my chest.

I couldn't even begin to imagine the disasters that were happening in the kitchen. Still having Harvey in there was enough of a thought to give me a headache.

The restaurant received _four_ out of five stars mainly because of his incompetence.

Then again, it's better to not get carried away and blame someone Matthewhired because of my lack in time-keeping. But also, Harvey should know when to get his things together.

Smacking my lips, I entered the dimly lit box and soon, it plummeted to the last floor. I walked down the steps and opened up my umbrella, marching to the bus stop.

 _Five more minutes. Just five._

I pulled out the graphic novel just as the bus came into view. Folding away the umbrella, I hopped on the rumbling vehicle and gave the driver whatever change I found in the coat's pocket; I sighed in relief when I had just the exact amount of coins needed.

Turning to face the passengers, I examined the seats.

Just great, really. All the seats were taken, except for one on the fifth row to the left.

Sitting with his head tilting on the window, a man wore sunglasses and a hood over his head. The hood I understood, but what the heck were the glasses for?

 _Shino Aburame style, indeed._

I mentally shrugged and made my way to the empty seat next to him, balancing myself on my heels and hoping that I didn't fall flat on my face as the bus began to move.

Instinctively, I clutched on to the seat to my right, almost grabbing hold of an old woman's shoulder.

"Sorry," I stuttered, forcing a smile at her. She glared up at me, her lips twitching into a look of disgust. _I just said I was sorry, damn._

"What did you just say to me?" she suddenly growled.

"Oh crap. Did I say that out loud...?" I mumbled to myself, turning slowly and straining my cheeks to stay upright. "N-nothing; sorry. I'm just running late to work, that's all."

"Keep your bad manners to yourself," the lady murmured before scoffing and looking away. "Youngsters these days..."

Twirling slightly, sweating from the frustration I was feeling, I took my seat and exaggerated a sigh. _Finally._

Placing the umbrella between my legs, I brought the graphic novel to my face. The cover didn't consist of the novel's true essence, since this geekier side of me was usually hidden behind bars; I wrapped it in one of Shakespeare's book jackets from a hard-covered book of his that I owned back at the apartment – _Othello,_ to be exact.

In this issue of _Fullmetal Alchemist,_ there was a _lot_ of things going down. After reading and going through so many plot twists, I mentally reprimanded myself for not picking up this manga sooner. The plot was so twisting and turning that I didn't even have theories in mind.

The man sitting beside me stirred for a moment, straightening his back against the blue-coated chair. I mainly disliked reading in public places because of the random distractions that pulled me out of the books, but I shook my head and forced my focus on the contents.

I hadn't seen the anime yet, but I was looking forward to. When I read about it online, several people were debating on which anime was better, since there were two that've been released based on Fullmetal Alchemist.

Which version was 'better' didn't matter to me; I only cared about what stayed true to the manga. Usually, I only read books and manga rather than watch movies and anime, simply because of the fact that _some_ directors out there think that changing the original work into something of their own made it _better_...gee, the nerve of some people...

Anyway, going back into the realm of alchemists...

"Oh my God, NO WAY!" I whisper-shouted, digging what I had for nails into the palm of my hand. The man sitting beside me jerked slightly, as if waking up from a slumber. "Sorry," I mumbled, looking to my right from the corner of my eye. Pushing the glasses up the bridge of my nose, I smiled faintly, hoping it would make up for the startle. "I just...got carried away."

 _Because he's...he's a...homunculus?!_

The man groaned and visibly shifted closer to me, marginally craning his head over my shoulder and looking into the contents of the novel.

"What's that?" he asked, his voice's rough and husky; almost sounded sick, even. But I couldn't blame him – he might've really been asleep, all this time.

"U-uh, Shakespeare, obviously." I grumbled as I furrowed my brows, showing the cover of the book to him and trying to imagine what his eyes must've looked like when he raised an eyebrow. The man's skin, I had noticed, was shades lighter than my own; pale. A ring dangled from his right nostril and, if my eyes were _not_ deceiving me, edges of tattoos crawled upon both sides of his neck.

A part of me already grew nervous at the sight; did I just put myself in a tough spot? This guy could pull a gun out on me...at any minute.

 _Okay, you're just being paranoid. Relax a bit...don't judge a book by its cover, remember?_

"Shakespeare?" he abruptly questioned, bringing me out of my thoughts and having me slightly jerk to his direction. "I don't remember Othello having a graphic novel."

"Oh—oh, yeah! Yeah, I mean, it was limited edition and stuff...so, you know, Shakespeare being...Shakespeare, I just _had_ to get it." I smiled sheepishly. _Gosh..._

He chuckled just then, firming his grip on himself and making me wonder if he was looking at me or the book. "You're a bad liar."

"U-um, no, I'm not." I shook my head. It sounded more like a question rather than a declaration, because I knew, all too well, that he was right.

 _Yes, I am a terrible liar._

"There you go again!" his grin widened. Even though most of his face was concealed behind those big, black sunglasses, there was something very appealing about him. His charisma was all over the place.

Blushing at the notion, I shook my head. "D-do I know you?" I asked, a bit too aggressively.

"You might," he said as he straightened his posture against the bus's window.

"Oh," I exclaimed sarcastically. "I _might,_ huh? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing suggestive of course," he continued to grin. "Just a general assumption."

"You shouldn't assume things. That way, you're just making an _ass_ of _u_ and _me..."_ I paused for a moment, waiting for him to laugh. When he didn't, I opted to explain. "Get it? Assume? _Ass-u-me?_ Because, you know...you're _assuming_...yeah...okay..."

 _Why do I put myself in these awkward situations?_

"No, no, I got it." He snickered again, turning to face the window briefly. "Man, you really _do_ meet some interesting people on the bus."

Slightly offended, I squinted at him through my glasses. "Interesting?"

Scrutinizing him, I saw that his tattoos were covered by his black hair, which seemed pretty long. Noticing this, he lowered the hood over his head and tightened the jacket on his collars. "Again; nothing suggestive."

"Still," I rolled my eyes. "You shouldn't think out loud, you know? It might give people the wrong impression."

"But then, they'd just be assuming stuff, right?" he smiled covertly.

 _This guy..._

"For your information," I inhaled deeply, somewhat irritated. "I rarely go on the bus. I'm just here because it's raining and I didn't want to get my car dirty."

"I didn't say anything," he laughed, raising his hands up in defense. "You shouldn't assume things. That way, you're just making an ass of _you and me_."

I found myself gritting my teeth, trying not to smile. Opening my mouth to speak, he abruptly interrupted me.

"I don't usually go on the bus either."

I looked to him, wondering why he wore such an outfit. "That much I could tell from your last statement, oh mysterious-one." He laughed, completely wiping away any trace of annoyance I had in me. "Why are you on the bus today, then?"

"I'm actually on tour. Cincinnati's our last stop."

 _On tour...? Our?_

"You and...? This seat was empty when I walked in..." I looked around me, quickly studying those that surrounded us. "And no one in here seems to be, you know... _with_ you."

"No, my band's not with me." He said simply.

 _Band?_

"Shouldn't you be with them? I mean like, on a tour bus, right?"

He turned to me but I couldn't tell where he was looking. "You ask a lot of questions." I was about to retort, but he continued to speak with another grin. "But yeah; they're on the tour bus. I wanted to take the public bus for the nostalgia of it all."

"How poetic," I snickered, covering my mouth with my book. "I guess that's a good enough reason as any. Like, nostalgia's a...a weird feeling. Weird, but good, I think."

Before falling silent, he laughed and said, "Yeah, it's a good weird."

* * *

 _Ten more minutes...just ten._

The man beside me was looking out the window, perhaps drinking in all the nostalgia he could find. I wondered if he was getting off after or before me; there were only a couple of stops left before the bus had to head back to its station, and my stop was after the one we were already in.

He was probably heading to the arena, which was the stop before the last, if he was performing tonight. I didn't ask what kind of music did he play, or what position he played either; the entire situation felt somewhat forced and unnecessary...I was surprised that he even spoke to me to begin with – surprised that our conversation was even that long.

 _No one does that...not really, at least. It happened before, but...not like this._

Sighing to myself, I opened the manga and started to read again.

 _This isn't working...I'm totally not focused anymore._

"You didn't tell me what you're reading." He spoke again, mildly shocking me. A chuckle slipped past his lips at the way I responded. "Are you always _this_ jumpy?"

"Well," I breathed deeply, sardonically smiling to him. "When a random stranger suddenly talks to me on the bus, I _could_ get a bit erratic. I mean, if you're as famous as you say you are, then why don't I recognize you?"

"What do you think the outfit's for?"

"Still...I don't know you!"

He hummed thoughtfully. "I guess it depends on what kind of music you listen to."

"Obviously," my eyes rolled involuntarily; I shook my head, hoping that it would take back the automatic, rude response. "Like, I don't think I've ever listened to _your_ music, otherwise, I would have _surely_ recognized you. N-no offense, of course!"

"None taken," he chuckled, amused. "My bad, then. _Also,_ to be fair, _you_ startled _me_ when I was just enjoying the scenery, so I'm a bit curious as to what made you react that way. Tell me, what are you reading?"

Looking to the book, I removed the Shakespeare book-jacket with a heavy sigh. "It's just a comic–graphic novel–manga–whatever. I don't think you'd be interested in something like this."

"I may not look the part, but I really like reading comic books. I even have a favorite superhero." He grinned widely. "Batman, of course."

Smiling, I elaborated. "I-it's not _that_ type of comic book, though. I mean, there _is_ a hero, but he's not _that_ kind of hero, and the story doesn't only revolve around him..."

"That makes it all the more interesting," he encouraged. "What's it called?"

My smile stretched; for some reason, a part of me felt flattered. "Fullmetal Alchemist."

He nodded slowly, processing the name by repeating it under his breath. "Thanks."

"But they don't sell it in every book store," I continued. "Like, it took me a while to actually be able to find a book store that sold this stuff."

"Don't worry," he smirked, causing my brows to furrow. "There are a lot of manga sections in several comic book stores around Cincinnati. I've seen some at the ones I used to go to."

"Oh," somewhat distracted, I looked around me and outside the window the man sat near to, seeing the well-lit restaurant zoom into our direction. "That's good, then. I hope you find it; you'll _really_ love it. It's like, so great. Like, so good."

He asked me something, but I was too distracted to process the question.

"Huh?" I glanced to him and raised a brow, suddenly hearing his words from a few seconds ago.

" _Is this your stop?"_

"Uh-oh-oh-yeah – yeah, this is my stop," I said hastily. "Sorry, I'm running _super_ late to work and I can't imagine what kind of disasters I'll be facing as soon as I walk in there."

Standing up slowly, the bus abruptly came to a full halt, making me jerk forwards slightly. I grabbed my umbrella and handbag, shoving the book back into it.

"It was nice meeting you," the man I sat next to smiled up at me. "Miss...?"

Swiftly, I stepped out of the small space I was standing in and straightened my shirt and coat. "Jude," I declared. "I'm Jude." Then I hurried to the front of the bus.

"Maybe I'll see you again!" he shouted to me. I responded with a quick grin and a wave. The idea was doubtful – I never meet the same people on the bus _twice_ ; this was surely a one-time thing, and I was never going to see this man, ever again.

As I stepped off the bus and opened up my umbrella, it occurred to me.

 _I didn't get his name._

* * *

 ** _cast:_**

 **Emily Bett Rickards** _as Jude Hendrix_

 _ **Black Veil Brides** as Themselves_

 _ **Ella Cole** as Herself_

 _ **Katie Cassidy** as Lauren_

 _ **Amanda Seyfried** as Amy_

 _ **Jacksepticeye** as Sean_

 _ **Greg Kinnear** as Thomas Hendrix (father)_

 _ **Veronica Ferres** as Christianne Frei/Hendrix (mother)_

 _ **Nicholas Hoult** as Cole Hendrix (brother)_

 _ **Alicia Von Rittberg** as Sophia Hase/Hendrix (brother's wife)_


	2. Head Chef is Late

As soon as I stepped into the restaurant, I scurried over to the kitchen and folded away my umbrella, avoiding the gazes of confused customers.

The restaurant, quite smartly and simply named 'Tourists', was big enough to fit in thirty-six tables, give or take. The owner didn't want it to be 'too full', nor did she want it to be available to 'everyone'; therefore, thirty-six tables seemed good enough for her.

Its walls stretched in mahogany, with a matching wooden floor to go with it. Just like every other _high-class_ restaurant, it was dimly-lit from within; consisting of little yellow lights that paved through the walkthroughs and lit up the sight of a deep-blue ceiling. Our customers really enjoyed looking up at the ceiling; some of them even compared it to the actual night sky.

 _Harry Potter reference right there._

But, what made us reach four-stars—would've been five if it weren't for our _damned_ service—would definitely be our food. My fellow chefs, as well as myself, were apparently, what Matthew would call, 'beyond _exceptionally_ talented with food'.

My heels clicked along the wooden ground, as if announcing my late arrival. A few customers looked my way and furrowed their brows when they noticed me gliding through the crimson kitchen doors, which swung back and forth widely.

Lauren and Amy were already in the large, white-tiled room, as well as Sean, Jim and Peter – however, there was no sign of Lionel, Harvey or Kelly.

Immediately, I unlocked the small cabinet to my left and tossed in my bag and umbrella, quickly shutting and locking it once more. Turning around, the pair of five eyes were on me. Lauren raised a brow as I groped for words.

"Sorry, sorry! I know I'm late, but—"

"'Late' doesn't even cover it, Jude," Lauren hissed at me, then smirked. "It's a good thing you're good at what you do."

"Quite convenient." I grumbled, striding ahead of her to the other end of the room where my white uniform hung. "Where're the others?"

My question was answered by Matthew's voice at the far-left corner of the large kitchen, where the office was positioned. He was yelling at people and it was safe to assume that Harvey was one of them.

"He wants to see you after he's done with them," Sean addressed to my direction. I turned to meet his green eyes as I cloaked myself in my uniform; my expression shifted to discomfort and anxiousness. "Wanna wear my lucky scarf?"

"Eugh," Lauren grimaced, flipping her dirty blonde hair from her shoulder. "You probably haven't even washed that in months." She turned to me; her features hard. "No matter how much luck you need, do not, I repeat – _do not_ wear Sean's scarf. It's disgusting."

"If it were _actually_ as disgusting and as dirty as you say it is, Matt wouldn't allow it in here," Sean exclaimed with his hands raised. "So, your argument is invalid. Please try again later, thank you."

I forced out a chuckle at their exchange – they were almost always at each other's throats. For two people above twenty-five, the behavior was practically hilarious.

But just then, the semi-light atmosphere was sliced through with a loud shout from Matthew's office. "You're fired! And you – don't you _dare_ step foot in my kitchen again!"

Silence fell upon the room, which started to seem pretty dark in spite of the blinding, bright lights.

"Don't worry about me," I reassured Lauren as I buttoned down my shirt and sent a timid smile to Sean. He turned around, shaking his head. "I doubt Matt would fire me...we're already _extremely_ short on staff; some of us even have to _serve_. That's how desperate we are – and now that we've got two people less, I don't think he'd fire me just because I'm late..."

The words that poured out of my mouth were smeared in doubt, and my ears weren't the only ones that picked up on it.

"You can still wear my scarf, you know." Sean offered once again, trying to lift the mood with a light chuckle.

"No matter how short we are on staff; Matt wouldn't just stop on _two_ people," Amy muttered as she stepped to Lauren's side. "He prefers quality over quantity..."

"My food's full of quality," I hissed, my attention abruptly caught by the sound of the office door opening roughly. "And, like...like, he _likes_ my food and my work...he won't fire me just because I'm _late..._ he wouldn't...!"

Sean and the other boys huddled in their own little circle as they slowly walked away from the three of us.

 _I'm really nervous now...if I lose this job, I have no idea where I'll go._

"Good luck," both Lauren and Amy muttered, nodding at me. I inhaled deeply, turning to the direction where the other three walked out. Kelly and Harvey had their heads low, which told me that _they_ must've been the ones that were released from the program. Seeing Lionel follow behind them but then move to our direction made me wonder why he was in there to begin with.

Biting my lip, I shoved my glasses up the bridge of my nose; my eyelashes annoyingly tapped its surface each time I blinked.

"Oh!" Matthew abruptly exclaimed when his eyes met mine. My heart leapt at the sight of his how fast he was walking to me. "How nice of our _only_ head-chef to grace us with her presence! Did the princess have trouble finding her way?"

I hated how he was referring to me in third-person.

 _Relax, he's trying to see how you'd react._

"I-I'm sorry," I stuttered, trying to keep the shakiness out of my voice. "It's raining and I had to take the bus, and there was some traf—"

"You know," he interrupted curtly, placing his right hand under his chin while his left arm rested below his chest. "I _really_ don't care. I don't care if there was rain, I don't care if there was traffic, I don't care if you get into an accident – I. Don't. Care. Next time, you get out of the house two hours earlier and get here – I don't _care_ if your shift didn't start, you just _get here_. Do I make myself clear?"

Gritting my teeth, I found a difficulty in swallowing – the lump in my throat insisted in overstaying its welcome.

With a nod, I lowered my gaze to the ground before deciding to look him in the eye. "Crystal."

He seemed taken aback for a moment, as if at a loss for words. Then, with a short bob of his head, he said, "Good."

As he turned away, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding in.

"Tonight's menu is Italian cuisine." Matthew shouted, craning his neck to meet each of our terrified gazes as he rubbed his hands together. "And since Mr. Harvey and Mrs. Kelly won't be joining us this evening, I suggest you step up each of your games and start working _right now_. Rush hour isn't too far ahead." His eyes abruptly met mine. "I'm sure you got you' A-game with you tonight, yes, head chef?"

His voice made it sound more of a command rather than a question.

"O-of course! Don't worry about it, mister—sir—Matthew, sir..." my head jerked sideways. I hated how words poured out of my mouth when I was nervous.

Matthew sighed and rolled his eyes before walking away.


	3. The Boyfriend Glitch

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p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="6fe81d91d5f007d112b87ebf799b28ff" The waitress took the gelato, looking tired. Lauren sighed as she walked up to me, raising a brow. "We need just a em style="box-sizing: border-box;"little /embit of help out here," she glared. "Mind giving us a hand?"/p  
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p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="7c41320faff9bd518de8abf2c7e7857f" I chuckled, glad that I could always count on him to make the atmosphere in the kitchen a little less intense. "Thanks."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f030d344b8e113829af46b2928353d17" Not before long, the ruckus from the outside and inside of the kitchen died down gradually. We were working a bit slower with a lot less pressure and frustration, until Amy sauntered to my direction with a worried expression smeared on her face./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="88b32c4cec2b5366249fde4e191332da" "What is it?" I asked, concerned./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="108e12525c0d8157561a896a86de9716" "Jude...um, how long have you and your boyfriend been together?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3cc79c4aa15e8f501108bc19eb8a5e43" "Hm, Brad?" furrowing my brows, I thought for a moment as I pushed my glasses up my nose. "Not em style="box-sizing: border-box;"too /emlong. Like, a week or two, maybe? A month? ...Wait, why're you asking?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="bec0b1d38f18a0b6e55db2462e75ca39" "Does he know you work here?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d482be0bb7ec01d52fd14771c31ec9e4" "Uhm...I must've mentioned it to him when we first started going out, I think. Again, why are you asking?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c6e6232260ed3cce3d80698a1ac4c65f" "Because he's here," she continued, rather nervously./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="326116a28bbd33c7624d12c3d90f002f" A smile stretched my lips out. "Really? He's here?" deciding to greet him, I cleaned off my hands and strutted to the swinging doors./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="dcb1518908da8295ea027540a04c56fc" "He's here and he's with someone, Jude." Amy said quickly./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="070456b212898f1c6246066738da5029" "Well, duh," I laughed. "He has friends."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="6aad9f07db40cbf394a9cebc17b4beda" "No, not like that – he's em style="box-sizing: border-box;"with/em someone...a girl. And they're dressed really nice."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9d4d87ab8322773a9c2bcfba511fab1d" "And...?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8e5f6eb2553ca32a5832b7388ab04439" "What Amy's trying to say," Lauren was suddenly with us in the room, emerging from behind the brunette. "Is that they're on a date. Your boyfriend is on a date with another woman...in your restaurant. That's what Amy wants to say."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5316295196fa202aecd8165d2e4ae5ef" My face turned comical; not believing Lauren, I scoffed. "Pfft, chyeah, right. You're pulling my leg. Brad wouldn't do that."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="04d5dd5a89d50e1843d189288d6a003b" "See for yourself, princess."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="580d233e3836756bf2f2063c63536b8f" Frowning, I marched to her and leaned over the counter, craning my head as I glanced to the right of the restaurant. My heart skipped a beat once I saw Brad, in fact sitting with a woman. She was clad in red with waves of brown hair tumbling down her left shoulder./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e5dfb1a0f019299b73e4d9dec2401b04" "That could be anyone," I shrugged, shaking my head. "So what if they're dressed up? That doesn't mean anything. For all I know, that could be his work partner."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a797f2354669b3e41ef7958e62b66f8a" Lauren laughed sarcastically. "There's a fine line between innocence and ignorance, Jude, and right now, you're being completely ignorant."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9f0f01d28a62f9ec7df00a356dff818c" "Why? Because I'm not jumping to conclusions or assuming things like you are? You shouldn't assume stuff, Lauren."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="af7e874de3608999242f5f4e8b8c19da"em style="box-sizing: border-box;" Funny – I was talking about the same thing with the stranger on the bus./em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9e4dd00c464ae84c95a77314bf90b5c1" "em style="box-sizing: border-box;"Assuming?" /emLauren repeated in awe. "Open your damn eyes, Jude. Better yet—"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0f25279b55310603d7fb6d31a90d658e" "Why don't we ask someone else?" I interrupted, annoyed. "Sean! Sean, get over here. Does that look like a date to you or just a casual outing?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9ebad9bdfcb91c6899e7c8a392ffdbd9" He ruffled his black hair, seeming as though he didn't want to be here, and looked over the counter along with me, Lauren and Amy./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9b7582accee5693c6be476d0bb4f624e" "Doesn't it look normal to you? Like it's not a date?" I asked as I crossed my arms, convinced of my own thoughts and words./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ac1f8cb6108c1853b97915c10a951a92" "Nope," he grunted nonchalantly, stepping back. "Totally a date."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="745264ca6642b7d8eb3e6024bf427e64" "em style="box-sizing: border-box;"What?" /emI snapped style="box-sizing: border-box;" /em"What in the em style="box-sizing: border-box;"world/em makes you say that?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="b3cd53701876396682fa81edf770fa9c" "First of all, when it's just a 'casual outing', you don't look at each other that way." Stated Sean, as-a-matter-of-factly. "Second of all, she's footsie-ing him. Nothing says 'I'm interested in you' like footsie."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c28dd65ce246f84a3ac30fd063a3c2ac" "What? She's not—" pushing Sean aside, I glanced to where Brad was sitting once more. I swallowed my words at the sight – Sean wasn't lying and apparently, Lauren wasn't either. "But Brad isn't..."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d677302c3a84b3f8c383dd85ca4f6434" "Sweetie," Lionel sighed, joining in the conversation. em style="box-sizing: border-box;"Is everyone aware of the situation right now?/em "His name's em style="box-sizing: border-box;"Brad/em – that name's an epitome of douchebags and assholes."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f10897a5f776b0b6acb44bcdf3ccad5b" "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard." I muttered, turning away. My eyes and nose began to sting. "A em style="box-sizing: border-box;"name/em can't em style="box-sizing: border-box;"stand/em for anything...what the hell."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4d4c17a578460e393e225cf479067b08" Not only did the fact that he was 'dating' someone else bother me, but also...taking her on a date to where em style="box-sizing: border-box;"I /emworked? ...That was low./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c1404c746d5c3a7ec644ddce0a222e97" "Your innocence is adorable!" Sean screeched, pinching my cheeks./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f7b3b52b7c50d57af301660bbf4f5d62" I sighed, pulling away and frowning as I gritted my teeth. em style="box-sizing: border-box;"...Seriously?/em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3e87e76b33661136f28c3f736de27ab8" "Don't worry about it," Sean continued. "We'll give him the chef's 'special'!"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f1281a8313a1551c6fc69f5fd2adaf62" "That's disgusting," I suddenly found myself sniffling. "Don't do that. We...we might get reduced to three stars."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9e8245355e4762a0fc47b7e2d773c9c0" "It'll be worth it, though." He smiled, green eyes lighting up./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d7b33d281c11123b1ded94859c967d43" "Enough," Lauren rolled her eyes, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Jude, you got this, right?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a9dac2a965143f6a048b1c89b0292968" I didn't know if I did. I didn't know if I even em style="box-sizing: border-box;"wanted/em to be in that kitchen anymore, embarrassed of my own stupidity – and the fact that my boyfriend was cheating on me. How could I, after all? It's not like I was a pro at being a socialite; plus, he played me like a fiddle and I.../p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="2a5fb27b46793604d4292a4ba5943d28" Completely fell for it./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="08f09f35ab6f83986dfaddb250258435" "Yeah, yeah..." I muttered, walking past them and toward the exit. "I got this, I think."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="6bb32a84b11fffe6fe6814bfbfebd9ec" As I stepped out of the kitchen, my mind raced with questions and scenarios that occurred between us; all those times when he said he was out with friends, was he actually with this woman? Or maybe another one?/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e6224b4bd7b5484527d2847aa66b0d69"em style="box-sizing: border-box;" It's understandable. Who would want to date a geek like me?/em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="eb4f085cd9054a1d912b7d2bf37f9f41" Before I could think of several other things that would make me cry like a woman on PMS, I shook my head, as though it would help get rid of the thoughts./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d5217119ed92945695ebeb1228781bd8"em style="box-sizing: border-box;" Surprisingly, it does help. A lot, actually./em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c0bea62168a42b590f2fc8e31851f9bb" The woman looked at me as I approached, and I pulled out the little notebook that stuck out of the pocket at the front of my apron./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d7ddec090e76a4e9d6044c4985ded55f" "Hello," I greeted in a high-pitched voice, trying to keep my voice smooth. "I'm Jude. I'll be your waitress this evening." em style="box-sizing: border-box;"Even though I'm the damn head chef./em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="139197e5ebff0bbb3b183faa63164f9e" "Hi!" the woman replied. I felt nothing ill towards her; she was an innocent bystander in this situation. Brad had probably fed her a few lies to make her swoon head-over-heels for him./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d570aa61c43d8a02ba63104d23c3c219" Said man then spoke. "Oh...uh, huh, hey, Jude? What are you doing here?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="cc795e29a7b8ba7d1fa2d45c2cd1c4b7" When I looked to him, his face was slumped in guilt. I gritted my teeth, clenching the pen in my hands./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="495927722094a10fcbc22cab2e3bd01f" "Oh—hey Brad!" I exclaimed sarcastically, forcing a wide grin to my features. "I didn't see you come in!"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="615b94b73184cb7fe8ee53fff1e1a127" "You two know each other?" the woman's smile seemed to fade a little bit, as if she had felt the tension between me and Brad's gaze./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="421037ac0aaf338322f40dde717bea56" "Hm? Yeah, yeah we do." Smiling back, I decided to beat around the bush. "Brad's my boyfriend. And you must be his...sister?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="6dea0ae4e211b254ed5a3acab1a40058" The woman frowned, beginning to shake her head as her eyes darted between Brad and I. "No...no, I'm Anna...his girlfriend."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e902571d060d1e9655a23364176a9467" Pretending to be taken aback, I widened my eyes whilst pursing my lips, nodding. "Oh. Uhm, okay then; what would you like to order?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8ff23c5736e14496ec5b1186d7247818" "Wait, Brad, what's this woman talking about?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="2804e965dcca550128bbbcd47d186311" The atmosphere was tense as well as profoundly awkward. Brad looked at me accusingly, almost as if to tell me 'em style="box-sizing: border-box;"you're not supposed to be here'. /emWell tough luck, Brad./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a4e48c46acc23a87795234ba8bd16dcc" "She's – uh, she's my—"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="cd5ef3a48369fd17d107862561209ea1" "Girlfriend," I finished for him, returning his glare. "You heard right, Anna."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d65c712793b630778644b0aec497f3cd" "...What the fuck?" she questioned, scowling at the man. She was very pretty, even when she was mad. em style="box-sizing: border-box;"Touché, Brad/em. "You told me you were new to this em style="box-sizing: border-box;"entire /emcountry!"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="2ebd819b0118899e3dbe8b21b8cdcba1" "Well, I—"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="b213c509be9822a9b38ccde5efe7bccf" "Oh," I suddenly found the situation humorous; therefore I chose to amuse her. "Did he also tell you that he was a transfer from Europe, here to get into Medical School? I-it's funny because a month ago, he told me the exact same thing."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4e2e4d64ef7578676fd937e3d6ee4ca6" Her brown eyes widened at my words. Abruptly, she stood up, still scowling at Brad before looking at me apologetically. "I'm sorry, um..."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0fcd152822c9a5081582764daed53404" "Jude."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="2942fd712102a7bfee53a0e154b407cf" "Jude! I'm sorry. I didn't know he was involved with someone. I wouldn't have ever done this if I knew – I wouldn't have gone out with him. I'm not that type of girl."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="63ffc1dd4b184846bbf41fe00a74d735" "It's fine!" I reassured her. "Totally understandable. 'Brad' is the epitome of douchebags, so, I should have seen this coming. It's not your fault at all." em style="box-sizing: border-box;"Thanks, Lionel./em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="23c626035476a1477b4dc59fca87796a" Anna gave me a warm smile before glancing at Brad one more time, her upper lips curling in disgust. She then said a few words in another language—em style="box-sizing: border-box;"Russian?—/embefore taking her leave./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e08bee8c2576fccfd658e9e480dbc895" "What's wrong?" I turned to him, raising my brows. "Cat got your tongue?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="946d49362855999dd427722fe9c57026" "Jude, I swear I didn't know you were working here!"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c2e19ed014896c3a6afcc9812cba2b07"em style="box-sizing: border-box;" ...Again, seriously?/em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8066c97f6ba735f84cafe89ffe74504d" "And that makes it better...em style="box-sizing: border-box;"how?/em Look Brad, if you're not going to order, I'm going to have to ask you to leave, all right?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="25925d07c6ec3d921c7e1744a6c4cbaf" "Can we talk about this?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="af3a6b66b8f7f45660e116e8caf0d0bf" "...About what exactly? There's nothing to talk about. I made up my mind. Also – you're obviously not going to order, so please," I felt my voice begin to break. "...Get the hell out of my restaurant."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ce0d715de0db8244ec1790d627858366" Turning away before my emotions could show, I heard Brad's footsteps as he followed me slowly./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="107e730d91595808562b5cbfaa86b2a9" "Jude, come on!"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5e57f519b8f5d145575568be25cfc94e"em style="box-sizing: border-box;" 'Come on'? Really?/em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="941429175f105858d3ada23908c34189" Sean walked out of the kitchen just as I was about to enter; his expression seemed stern and his jaw was hardened. I faintly heard him speak to Brad, but before I could hear anything more, I was on the other side of the swinging doors./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a0b6db66db15b7b5cc7e371e36831397" The accelerated beat of my heart waned, and I was left with the realization:/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0983530f7fab75d0182c874e73ad3d42"em style="box-sizing: border-box;" Brad was cheating on me. It didn't matter how long or when did he start – the fact is that he lied and heck, he probably didn't even seem to care that much about me to begin with./em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="16f4315118dc6e506097f27f2dff64a0"em style="box-sizing: border-box;" Am I all that that's worth...? Is that what he thought? That I was some 'good-girl' he could mess around with just because I wore button-down shirts and glasses?/em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e7ce4945366d1b4f511fa8d0a07ce8c6" A heavy weight rested upon my chest; I couldn't hold back the tears anymore. Now that the adrenaline rush subsided, there were only my feelings present, and they echoed in my head, louder than the clatter of plates and pans around me./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f776076dcef38ddd7a66941b70abea70" "Hey," it was Lauren, removing my glasses and wiping my face. "It's no big deal, right? There are a lot of others out there."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="11dee2f5ffb53c7f599e128c18aadea5" "...No big deal, Lauren?" I didn't want to project my emotions on to her...but she was the only one with me, and there was so much sadness and anger building up inside of me. "He was em style="box-sizing: border-box;"cheating /emon me! I...am I...worth so little?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="37ef1a5585fb81abed4a0f60c0b95503" "Don't even go there, Jude."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="86936ad026f677705b22b45f8fab34a7" Sniffling, I unlocked the door on my left and lifted my handbag, searching for my phone. "I just need to make a call...would you cover for me for a bit?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="61858e2ba53fd9351b427978c47122e6" She nodded slowly. "Yeah...sure, of course. Don't worry about it."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="2af45dcfec72e2fd1bc660c4d3fb32a7" "Thanks." I headed for the chiller room, wiping my eyes and nose with my fingers as I dialed. "Hey, Sophia, will you be home tomorrow?"/p 


	4. Surprises and Fanfictions

Waking up to the sound of bells relieved me; I went to sleep with a heavy heart last night and it wasn't lighter the next morning.

I decided that I needed to go to church, not accepting the fact that I forgot to say my prayers before slumbering. All I had in mind was being with Sophia and the rest of the family; the thought of Brad consistently tore through my chest and awoke me during the late hours of the evening that had passed; sleep seemed to only slip through my fingers.

 _I can't believe I didn't pray._

 _If there was one place where I truly felt at peace, it was there, at church; the only place I felt comfortable crying in public._

Sighing, I sat up and rubbed my face, grabbing for my phone underneath the off-white sheets of my bed; the echo of plopping water aggravated me slightly, coming from the window to my left.

 **Text message from: Mom**

Hey, sweetie.

Sophia told Cole, who told me, that u were having some prblems wit Brad.

Ill be expecting u 2day ! We're all ganna be home !

PS: Daphne told me about this rlly cool chatting app called "What's up"!

Y don't u try getting it so we could get in touch easier?

xoxo

Rolling my eyes, I put my phone away and stood up to head to the bathroom. With my life being hectic enough, I had no time for social media. Maybe it was true and it did help contacting others easier, but why would I need stuff like that when I could just as easily text and call?

I had no idea what having a _proper_ social life was like, let alone have one through the internet. Who needs that noise?

 _And just_ look _at what it did to my mother's grammar and texting skills. Wonderful._

* * *

After church—and practically crying my eyes out—I felt better, heading straight to my parents' house. I listened to the radio as I drove down the lightly littered streets; the morning was peaceful, for the most part.

"And here's One Direction with their new song, 'Infinity'." The radio host said cheerfully. "Have a great and traffic-free day!"

 _New song? How did I not know of this?_

The thought of my little sister came to mind. Daphne and I were complete opposites, and if she were with me in the car, she'd scoff, roll her eyes and change the radio station. For some odd reason, she didn't really like pop music. Sure, most of the time their lyrics were nonsense, but a lot of the time they _did_ have a good meaning behind it. Besides, it was rare for me to listen to anything with words in them.

But I couldn't enjoy the music at the moment; a love song was the last thing I wanted to hear. Changing the station, I focused on the road ahead of me, seeing my parents' house zoom into my vision. It was a good thing we didn't live too far apart; otherwise, I wouldn't be able to see them so frequently.

Turning off the engine, I stepped out of my car and rounded the area to the front door. My heels were loud as I stepped up the porch stairs, so I wasn't surprised to see my older brother opening the door and greeting me with a wide smile. He was clad in what I usually witnessed him in: a blue and black flannel shirt, black jeans and black sneakers. Oh, and of course – the bed hair.

"Jude's here!" he called out over his shoulder before looking at me once again. "How are you?"

I groaned as I took a step forward and embraced him.

"I've been better," I finally replied as I pulled away. "But I...can't complain. I have to compose myself before I head off to work again tonight."

"Then this is the right place for you." He chuckled, placing an arm around my shoulders and guiding me into the house.

I was greeted with a strange sense of familiarity; the house was spacious enough to fit my parents and little sister as well as have guests over; three rooms were located above us and were pretty much soundproof. The hallway of the entrance stretched forward, leading straight into a guest bathroom and a storage room. Along the left side of the hallway was a large opening, where one would easily see the living room that stretched out onto a kitchen-slash-dining room.

I didn't grow up in this house, though. I visited several times and often slept in the guest room, but otherwise, this wasn't the place I'd necessarily identify as my 'home'.

"I see you've been to church." Cole suddenly declared.

"Huh?" my brows furrowed as I looked up to him. "What makes you say that?"

"You only use that coat when you go there," he said, pointing to the beige coat in my hands. "Even the people at church know that."

I didn't want to be reminded of being there simply because it was such an overwhelming moment; the thought of Brad came to mind instantly. "Yeah, well...yeah, I was at church. Anyway...how's work been?"

"Psht," Cole waved uneasily, as though slapping away the question. "We're working on a new software but not everyone's on board."

"Oh. Just like every other engineering job, then?"

"...Pretty much _every_ job out there; not just engineering. Racist much?"

Chuckling, I led myself into the dining room, where I saw my mother and father having a quiet conversation. Once my father caught sight of me, he nodded with a smile, causing my mother to rotate in her chair and gaze at me with expanded eyes.

"Jude!" she exclaimed as she stood up, rushing to me with open arms.

"Hey, Jude." My dad sang, following my mother.

"You don't have to sing that every time you see me, you know." I beamed at him, to which he snickered.

"How are you, sweetie?" mother asked, faintly apprehensive.

I was beginning to feel a bit weary and suffocated from the same question I've been asked throughout last night.

"I'm fine, mom, really. It's not like he was the first boyfriend I ever had."

"I-I know, love, but wasn't he your first serious one since freshman year of college?"

I shook my head, biting the insides of my cheeks. "No, not really. We were only together for a month—or less, even. So...really mom, I'm fine." Allowing myself to move past her, I set my coat and handbag on the table.

"Just so you know," my father spoke up this time. "I called it from the beginning. You just shouldn't _be_ with someone named _Brad_."

"Gee dad, thanks." I sarcastically smiled at him, recalling Lionel's words from last night. _Am I the only person in the world who didn't know that rule?_ "I'll keep that in mind for the future." Glancing to Cole, I raised a brow. "Where's Sophia?"

"She's upstairs with Daphne."

Surprised, I placed my hands on my hips. "Wait, Daph's here?

"Of course she is," my mother replied. "Where else would she be?"

I shrugged, taking a seat. "I don't know; out with her delinquent friends, or something."

"It's three in the afternoon. She goes out at five." My father clarified.

"Hmm..." the thought continued for a moment; of course I wanted to give Daphne her freedom, but she was lingering around the wrong people and she didn't know it – or maybe she did, but chose to ignore that fact. It angered me a little bit, as well as concerned me. Moreover, she kept to herself a lot more ever since she turned fifteen; that was understandable, but still...

 _I wish I could be there for her more._

"Ah, speaking of which!" Cole abruptly shouted enthusiastically. "Soph and I have some big news!"

"She's pregnant." I joked with a stern face, waiting for him to laugh. But as a few seconds passed, his face only contorted to displeasure. "Wait...wait, I'm right?"

He sighed. "What the hell, Jude? Did Sophia tell you?"

My eyes widened in shock while my mother gasped audibly. "What! No way – I was trying to make a joke! But oh my God, Cole...Sophia's _pregnant?!"_

"Yeah," he rolled his eyes, but was suddenly grinning wide. "Yeah! She's pregnant."

"Congrats!" I grinned, softly clapping my hands at the news; another addition to the Hendrix family? Color me content.

Mother was abruptly squealing, running to Cole and kissing his cheeks as she hugged him. This was good news, especially since Cole wasn't exactly the type of person who'd be excited over a lot of things.

"Thanks mom, you can stop now." He laughed, returning her hug with a short one of his own.

"Congratulations," my father said calmly, patting my brother on the back. "You're going to be a father. Good luck."

"You _do_ realize that this means you're going to be grandparents, yeah?" I questioned impishly. Mother _hated_ being called 'old' or anything that had to do with her age. It was quite funny. "You're going to be Grandma Christianne and Grandpa Thomas; sounds kinda nice, huh?"

Mother took a step back with an expression of disbelief on her face. "No – I can have him or her call me mom number two...or something like that...or maybe just jump into first name basis!"

"And there goes their respect for you." I laughed.

* * *

Soon, my little sister and brother's wife joined us in the dining room.

"If it's a boy, we were thinking of naming him Scott," said Sophia with a smile. "And if it's a girl, we'll name her Jewel."

"Damn," I hissed under my breath. "So close to Jude. _So close."_

Sophia was incredibly beautiful, and even though she was about three years older than me, she looked sort of younger. Plus, her soul was amazingly pure.

It was no wonder Cole fell for her.

With a few more exchanges of banter here and there between my brother and his wife and my parents and I, we all sat down at the dining table, ready to eat. The house smelled of almost burned foods, some sweet and some sour. My sister sat to my left with her smartphone in her hands, barely paying attention to anything around her. Her blonde hair was straightened and her eyes were hooded in black eye makeup, while she pouted with ruby red lips. I wondered, for a moment, where she was off to and with whom, but decided to ask about it later – and maybe tell her to wear something girlier instead of a band t-shirt and worn out blue converses.

I decided to tease her a little bit, somewhat annoyed by her absent-mindedness. It was true that I visited quite often, but she could at least _show_ that my presence made an impact on her, at least a little bit. "BABY – you light up my world like nobody else! The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhel—"

"Shut _up_ ," Daphne groaned, rolling her eyes. "I can't _believe_ you listen to that garbage."

" _Garbage?_ They have good lyrics, all right? They're mostly love songs, sure, but they have this one song called 'Story of my—"

"Don't wanna hear it." She interrupted once again, looking back at her phone. "Retarded boy-band."

" _Hey_ ," I hissed, gulping what was left in my mouth with a quick sip of juice. "Don't say stuff like that. Just because _you're_ not into music like that, doesn't mean they're bad."

"Uh-huh."

Her attitude only frustrated me further, but I chose to pay it no attention. "Whatchu got there? Another fanfiction about...that one guy with the hair and tattoos?"

She chuckled, relaxing me. "Who, Oli Sykes?"

"...Sure," I grinned, nodding. "That guy."

" _No._ It's a new guy."

"Hm? Who?" I asked, continuing to eat. I didn't know _why_ she read fanfictions or _where_ she even got the thought of reading them, but I didn't mind. It was a topic we had fun talking about; sometimes, she was a lot more animated when she talked about them, so that made me happy.

She once explained to me a really strange but popular fanfiction – it made me cringe most of the time and I had once tried to read some on my own, but I never got into it.

Still, I could talk to her about it and that was all that mattered.

"The lead singer of BVB."

"...Wow Daph, that's so much clarification. I _totally_ know who BVB is and I _totally_ know who their lead singer is."

"It's not _my_ fault you live under a friggin' rock." She rolled her eyes again, sighing. "What music do you even listen to? Just that stupid boy-band and Justin beaver?"

" _Yo_ , do _not_ diss the Biebs. Plus, like I said; One Direction aren't bad!"

"Ugh, what-the-effing-ever."

If there was one thing we visibly didn't agree on, it was our music, for the most part. That – and our tastes in fashion; we were polar opposites when it came to those things.

"So?" I pushed on, waiting for her answer. "Who are you reading about?

Letting out a groan but then swiftly grinning afterwards, she gave me a devious gaze. "Andy Biersack."

"Wait, _what? Who?_ Who's Andy? And what the hell's a Biersack? Are you subliminally insulting me right now?"

Laughing, she elaborated unclearly, giggling in between each word. "Like I said, you dolt – he's the lead singer of BVB – and Biersack's his last name! You're so rude, you know that?"

" _Biersack?"_ grinning, I lightly tapped some tissue paper over my mouth and pushed my empty plate further away from me. "It's such a strange last name. Imagine being married to someone like that."

"Oh – I wish!" she swooned, holding her phone to her chest. "I _wish_!"

"Daphne Biersack, eh?"

" _Yes!"_

"I'll stick to Hendrix, thank you very much. What's the fanfic about?"

"Ugh, typical one, to be honest," grimaced Daphne. "I've read tons like these – she meets him at their concert or at a meet and greet and she's the victim of abusive parents, so she runs away and for some reason, BVB take her in to live with them."

"...So, why are you reading it if you know what's going to happen?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I was hoping that something – one _little_ thing, at the very least – was different from the others, but so far, _nada._ "

"Hm...I'm sure that if you searched hard enough, you'll find a good one."

"Oh – I found a good one," she abruptly smiled, but the stretch of her lips was short-lived. "But it got really ridiculous later on and the plot and events were extremely rushed. Ultimately, it followed the plot of several other fanfics I've read – where the main character ends up cutting herself and whatnot."

My eyes rolled at the statement. "And—lemme guess, that's when the band takes her to the hospital and where the main dude confesses his undying love for her, and they live happily ever after afterwards?"

Daphne nodded, sharing my facial expression.

"Why don't _you_ try writing one?" I recommended, perking up a bit. It wasn't a very good suggestion since I've suggested it before – and I knew her answer before she could even say it.

"I can't _write_ ," she scowled, at nothing in particular. "I can barely get through an _essay,_ let alone write an entire friggin' fanfiction."

"You may surprise yourself if you tried, though."

"Whatever. I mean, don't you—"

"Hey, Jude?"

Daphne's words were disrupted by none other than my brother's wife, who sauntered to our direction with the corners of her mouth gently lifted.

"Yeah Soph?"

"Mind coming upstairs with me for a bit? I watched a makeup tutorial earlier this morning and lo and behold – I've got a victim to try it out on!"

I couldn't help but return her smile and laugh a little bit – but I knew why Sophia was calling me; after all, I had spoken to her about Brad only last night. It wouldn't be a surprise to me if she opened up the topic.

Standing up, I ruffled my little sister's hair and pinched her right cheek. "We'll continue later, 'kay?"

"Yeah, yeah." She waved me away, directing her green eyes to the phone's screen again.

She seemed upset over something.

 _I'll ask her about it later._


	5. Pretty Normal

Sophia sat me down in front of her well-lit dresser, making me wonder how she had the time to actually put on makeup before going to work.

Speaking of work – that was what our conversation consisted of. My brother, Cole, and Sophia, were complete opposites when it came to work interests: she was very much into fashion and makeup and she took it very seriously, while Cole mostly rambled on and on about computer software and graphic engines.

We exchanged laughs and switched topics as she started wiping my face with a couple of wet-wipes. Then she applied primer, concealer, foundation, and contour. My mother walked into the room once she began dusting my cheeks out in a light pink blush.

"Where's that from again?" mother asked, nonchalantly easing into the conversation Sophia and I were having.

"Bobbi Brown," Sophia grinned to her. "It's called 'Washed Rose'."

"It's pretty. It really brings out the color in your cheeks, Jude."

"Thanks, mom." I smiled back at her, sensing another purpose for her visit. I didn't want to bring anything up because I didn't want to talk about it; besides, I had absolutely no idea what mother had in mind – what she had assumed happened, or what she was going to suggest.

The room was crowded with our voices, loud and somewhat shrill. I was enjoying myself, honestly. There was no use in dwelling in the past, after all.

"Jude," mother cleared her throat as she said my name, and I was already mentally preparing myself for a lecture. "What happened with Brad?"

"You already know, mom."

"I'd rather hear from my own daughter."

I sighed. "I just saw him with another woman, that's all. The woman was shocked to find out that Brad was actually 'unavailable', so that gave me enough clues to piece things together."

"So...so he was cheating on you, then?" mother concluded gloomily.

Shrugging, I directed my gaze to my hands, resting above my thighs.

"Look _up_." Sophia ordered, causing my eyes to roll as I obeyed her.

"Yes, mom – I guess you can say that he was cheating on me. But I'm fine now, really. It wasn't serious; it probably wasn't _going_ to be serious either, considering the kind of guy he was."

Mother pondered over my words whilst humming, carefully studying the way Sophia applied eyeliner and mascara on my lower lash line.

"What's the name of...that friend of yours? From work?" she abruptly questioned.

"Huh? Who?"

"That boy...the Irish one?"

"Oh, you mean Sean?" I asked as Sophia applied pink lipstick.

"Yes!" she exclaimed gleefully. "What about Sean? Why don't you go out with him?"

I accidentally scoffed, rolling my eyes. Sophia was finished with my makeup and she stood to my right, while my mom sat in front of us at the foot of the bed. Hastily, I glanced at myself in the mirror, really liking how pink everything was before turning to meet my mother's gaze once more.

"No, mom. Sean has a girlfriend."

"What about Lionel?" creases formed along her face; she seemed _genuinely_ worried and it briefly irritated me.

 _Why is she pushing this?_ "Lionel's gay."

"He's _gay?_ " she repeated. "But...but isn't he African-American?"

"No – he's _black_ and he's just American...and being gay has nothing to do with his skin color...gee, mom, that's offensive!"

"Sorry, sorry!"

"Why does it matter anyway? I don't want to date right now. Dealing with the restaurant is enough – plus, I have to keep an eye on Daphne _and_ _there's a baby_ coming along the way. I should be a lot more focused on things at home."

"...But you're almost twenty-five and you're single..."

"Mom, I turned twenty-four only a couple of months ago...and who says I even _want_ to get married anytime soon?"

I knew it would come down to this: it always did.

After I had said my final statement, we got into quite a loud argument. Sophia was basically being Switzerland; not taking any sides and simply witnessing the showdown without saying a word.

Mother ranted about wanting grandchildren before she turns seventy, about how she'd want part in _naming_ my kids along with me, about meeting the man I'd end up marrying and approve or disapprove of him – it was a pretty lengthy disagreement.

The quarrel resulted in me storming out of the room in my high heels, practically running down the stairs; I didn't think I could take another minute in the house, not with the topic of conversation still open.

The dining table was cleared from the afternoon food; I spotted my little sister in the kitchen, washing the dishes. Cole stood next to her, placing the dry dishes away while my father sat on a long couch in the living room, reading what seemed to be an old newspaper.

I made my way to my siblings, in no mood to interact with anyone else.

"Hey guys," my words dragged out in a long, whiny sigh. My sister turned to me with a smirk that read, _oh, I see what happened. Mom lectured you again, huh?_

"You OK?" Cole questioned, chuckling slightly.

"Fine," I replied, stationing myself beside my sister and looking for a way to help. "Just great, really. Wonderful. Fabulously dandy."

"Fabulously _dandy?_ " Daphne repeated, laughing. "Same thing as last time?"

"Never changes, Daph, never changes."

"Then just get married already." Cole insisted, rolling his eyes.

"Easy for _you_ to say, fruitcake."

" _Fruitcake?"_ Cole emphasized. "You can't call me that anymore, I'm going to be a father, stubby."

Gasping, I turned to my right, widening my eyes. " _Stubby_?" I _strongly_ poked Cole on the chest.

"Chyeah," he chuckled. "Look at that stubby-ass finger and your stubby-ass legs."

" _Verpiss dich!"_

"Oh? Someone's been googling curse words, huh?"

"What!" we were cracking up at this point; Daphne often cursed at us beneath her breath, and shoved me back at Cole once he shoved me to her. She almost dropped a plate.

"Mom taught me the German swear words when I was fourteen!"

"No way," he continued. "How come she never taught me, then?"

"Because you're adopted, _duh_. No one wants you, they hate you."

Cole sarcastically gasped and pushed me on the forehead, suddenly making me lose balance and bump into Daphne again. She screeched audibly before a loud _crash_ was heard.

" _Really Jude?!_ Agh, really? Cole?!" Daphne shouted at us. I backed up into Cole as he back up against the wall. "It's like you two are _younger_ than me. What the hell!"

"Relax fishface," I grinned, flailing my hands in front of her. "We'll help you clean it up."

"Speak for yourself, stubs." Said Cole before pulling on my hair and running away. Shaking my head and scoffing, I stepped to Daphne.

"Can you believe he's twenty-eight?" I questioned with a smile.

"I can't believe _either_ of you are in your twenties. God!"

... _Yikes._

* * *

"Jude? Where you going?" my dad asked once he spotted me gathering my coat and handbag from the dining room.

"Work." I replied, beaming at him over my shoulder.

"But doesn't your work start at..." he glanced down to his watch. "Six?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, honey, for starters...it's five. You have an entire _hour_ ahead of you before work starts."

" _Wrong_ , dad. I have an entire hour to _get there_. I was already yelled at for being late yesterday – I do _not_ want to make it a habit. Do you remember Kelly?"

He nodded.

"She got _fired_ yesterday, dad."

"What! That's ridiculous. Her food was good!"

"'Good' isn't 'great', and there were some other things that she did that annoyed the heck out of Matthew. I really don't want my tardiness to get in the way of my job. Can you imagine being fired like that? For being _late_?"

Father sighed. "Find yourself a new job soon, okay honey?"

"I doubt I'll find one as good as this." I chuckled. "It's fun working there, anyway. I can't really imagine myself working anywhere else."

After a couple of minutes, I headed upstairs to say goodbye to Sophia and my mother; it was a short farewell since I allowed things to end on an awkward note. Daphne simply gave me a head nod as I made my way to the front door, while Cole accompanied me.

"See you soon, stubby." He snickered, letting his heavy hand land on my back and push me out the door.

Rolling my eyes, I turned to give him a hug with my free arm. "See ya, fruitcake."

I was already down the porch steps when I turned back and called out to him. "Keep an eye on Daph, OK?"

"What's wrong with Daphne?" he questioned with a frown.

"I..." shaking my head, guilt formed within the center of my chest and poured its way down to my toes. "I forgot to ask her. But you know how she gets sometimes..."

"Right..." Cole nodded slowly, inching his way back into the house. "We'll let you know if anything happens. Don't worry, chubs."

My lips broke out into a wide grin. "First stubs, and now chubs? Gee, what next?"

"Dunno," he shrugged sarcastically. "Moronic blonde, maybe?"

"Pfft. Bye, Cole."

"Bye, stupid."


	6. Stranger from the Bus

As I drove down the road that was almost packed with cars, I hummed a familiar tune to myself, trying to recall the lyrics that I kept forgetting.

"What does he say after that word...?!" I growled to myself, bobbing my head to the low sounds of the radio.

 _Thank God my windows are tinted._

But before I could remember the verse of the song, my phone began to ring. A part of me grew worried, thinking it was Cole with some bad news.

 _I should've spoken to her before I left. God..._

To my relief, however, it was a call from the restaurant. Scratch that – I grew even more uneasy.

"Hello?"

"Jude?" the voice of Lauren echoed from the other side. "Jude, please tell me you're on the way."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on the way. Why? Is something wrong?"

"Yes and no," she sounded anxious herself. It was a weekday; the restaurant couldn't _possibly_ be piling up with people. "We have several reserved tables and most of the customers are coming in right _now_."

"But it's Tuesday—"

"Yes, it's Tuesday, and you're forgetting the fact that we run an amazing restaurant that people are gonna eat in whether it were a weekday or the weekend. _Please_ tell me you're close by."

Looking to my sides, I realized that I was closer than I expected to be. "Mhm, yeah actually, I am."

"OK, great. I'll let Matthew know. You better be here before six, got it?"

 _Gee, it's like I'm not even the head chef; taking orders from others and stuff. Then again, I_ am _being kind of irresponsible...kind of._

"Sure, Lauren. I'll see you soon...I guess."

"See you."

ωωω

The restaurant wasn't exactly _full_ , but then again, it was.

It was quiet for the most part; most of the tables were taken by crowds of people. It was going to be a busy night, that's for sure.

Standing at my station and swiftly chopping up leeks, I couldn't help but ponder over yesterday's events as well as today's – Daphne, _Daphne_ took up most of my thoughts and Brad stood right by her.

 _What's bothering her? Was Daphne hurting herself again? What was the reason this time? How's she been at school? Who does she spend time with? Were they good people...?_

With a sigh, I took a glance out to the restaurant, seeing a group of people with strangely long hair occupy the table Brad sat at yesterday.

The noise around me transformed into an odd, somewhat surreal muffle – I was mixing things and cutting things up and running from one corner of the kitchen to the other, giving orders here and there, while a part of my mind still clung onto things I really shouldn't have been thinking about; not at that moment, at the very least.

"Jude?"

I wiped my forehead with my sleeve, growing weary from focusing on the oven fires that blasted almost high enough to burn the ceiling.

"Jude?"

Removing my glasses, I vigorously rubbed my eyes, cursing myself for messing up the eyeliner and eyeshadow and whatever else Sophia covered me up with.

"Jude!"

The man's voice snapped me back to reality; glancing to my left, I found Sean with a little smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Are you OK?" he laughed softly.

"I'm fine," I breathed in deeply, fairly feeling the opposite. "I'm fine, Sean. Do you need something?"

"Yeah, actually," he seemed hesitant to say what he originally wanted to. "Matthew told me to take over whatever it is you're doing, and he _also_ told me to tell you to—"

"What? To _what?_ Make more _Pieds Paquets?_ _Bisque?_ What?"

"Woah there, chill." Sean mumbled, stepping back slightly.

 _I didn't mean to yell at him._ With a sigh, I momentarily shut my eyes, rubbing my temples. "Sorry...everything's just...blowing up all of the sudden."

"Not really," he shrugged, smiling. "It's always like this. Shouldn't you be used to it already?"

"I-I don't know. Things seem different today. Is the kitchen smaller? Do we have a new chef or two?"

"OK there Jude, deep breaths," he laughed, and I couldn't help but offer up a smile. "You're fine, it's _all_ _fine_. Matthew doesn't want you to make any more food for the time being – he just wants you to...to get out there."

He announced it so casually that I had almost misheard him. " _Get out there?"_

"Yeah!" Sean nodded wildly. _He's like a kid._ "Take orders and whatnot."

"Take orders and... _what?_ " I giggled – he had a way of saying words that begin with 'wh'; it sounded as if he were adding another 'h' at the beginning.

"Ah, shut up," he grinned, patting me on the head.

I rolled my eyes.

"Take some time away from the kitchen, yeah? Get out there and greet some people, take some orders!"

Sighing, I nodded and put my glasses back on. "Afterwards, you think I'd be able to take a ten-minute break?"

"I...I guess so? But I don't think you can leave from the front door – it's blocked."

Raising a brow, I turned to look over my shoulder. "Blocked?"

"Yeah. Um, apparently there's someone famous dining in today and their fans are right outside, waiting to meet them or whatever."

 _...Someone famous?_

Scrutinizing the glass windows of the entrance, I did, in fact, see tons of females as well as males, crowding the entrance. A lot of them had bizarre makeup on and most of them were wearing black; their hair was colored in peculiar hues and gelled up in outlandish ways. They reminded me of Daphne.

"Who? Who famous? Who's here?"

"I don't know!" Sean shook his head. "Some rock band or whatever. Mind getting to it, Jude?"

"Yeah, yeah," I exhaled deeply, heading towards the swinging doors with a notebook in hand.

"Don't forget to wash your face!" Sean shouted out after me. _Wash my face...?_

I gazed across the tables, making a beeline towards the ones that had empty plates on them and ones that had no plates at all. A lot of the regulars were here, which made me happy; they complimented the restaurant and my food and opened up about their days. I loved hearing about it – it took my mind off the thoughts that had been stressing me out, and it was mostly refreshing to see someone else speak so cheerfully about their own life, whether good or bad. The regulars were my favorites.

Other than that, a couple of men and women were pretty nice to me and quite patient in repeating their orders to me, while others were rude asshats that gave me very immature glares and flaunted their trash-like attitudes in my face.

Hastily, I gave the orders to Amy, who stood just behind the kitchen counter, before going to the last table I had not yet visited.

The last table was Brad's table – the table where five men sat, most dressed in black with matching, long black hair. Compared to seeing Brad and whatever her name was, it was quite a different scene.

Even though I tried not to think of yesterday, Brad's face kept coming up like an annoying fly.

I made my way to the group of men— _safely assuming that they're the famous rock band Sean told me about_ —forcing my smile to stretch.

"Hi—" I jerked my head. "Uh, good evening! I'm Jude and I'll be your waitress tonight...or for the time being."

"Hey," one of the men called out to me, urgently. Raising my eyes from the notepad, I was greeted with a wide, friendly smile. "It's you!"

I froze, looking to my sides and then looking behind me before pointing at myself with a frown. "M-me?"

"Yes, _you_ ," The man continued to grin. It looked familiar, but I couldn't think of where I'd seen that pretty smile before.

Blinking rapidly, awkwardness seeped into my nervous system and made me utter sounds that didn't sound like words. "Can I, um, c-do I, uh, c-do I know you?"

He chuckled, running a hand through his black hair. "Yeah! It's me – I sat next to you on the bus yesterday, remember?"

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. "O-oh! Right, yeah." Although I was smiling, I _really_ couldn't remember his name, or if he had even told me what it was. "Yeah, on the bus..."

"Wait," he said. "You _are_ Jude, right? From the bus yesterday, when it was raining?"

A wave of chuckles sounded off from the men around him as one of them lightly nudged his shoulder.

"Yeah, I mean, yeah – I-I _did_ take the bus yesterday."

"Right!" he smiled again. "Jude, with the Shakespeare comic book."

My cheeks heated in embarrassment; I forced out a laugh. "Yeah, that one...with _that_ comic book. Um, so, can I take your orders?"

"Wait," one of the men said. He was smiling just as wide as the first man that spoke. "Were you _really_ in the bus with him, or is he just making stuff up again? To make it seem like being on the bus was actually worthwhile?"

... _Worthwhile?!_

"Oh – ha, ha, ha, real funny," the first man countered his friend.

"Yeah, like you and your 'nostalgia'."

"Well?" _another_ man asked.

I jerked my head, abruptly overwhelmed by the amount of attention surrounding me. "Yeah, yeah I was. I mean, it's no big deal, though...I was reading a book and he...sat beside me." My answer sounded like more of a question because at that point, I wasn't even sure as to what was going on anymore.

Exasperated, I sighed loudly. "Should I come back when you have your orders thought out or...?"

"No, it's all right," the man from the bus answered. It was somewhat strange seeing him in normal clothing, not hiding under a hoodie or sunglasses. "We have our orders. Ash, you first."

The second man that spoke, was the first one to order— _Ash?—_ and the rest of the men followed.

"All right," I smiled to the one from the bus, mainly because he was the only one that I had a conversation with. _How bizarre..._ "Forty-minutes...give or take."

 _...Such bad service._

They all exclaimed a series of positive words such as 'great' and 'awesome' as I walked away.

"Hey, Jude!"

"Huh?" I twirled on my heels, finding the man from the bus stroll slowly to my direction. He was so much taller than I would have ever imagined; I _literally_ looked up at him as he stood in front of me. "Did I miss something?"

"No," he smiled, shaking his head. Unlike the rest of his band members, he wore a white shirt under a black dress-shirt. "I like your makeup, by the way."

 _My makeup?_

It was then that I had realized that I completely and stupidly smudged all of my eye makeup – _why in the world did no body point it out to me?! Was I literally walking around the restaurant looking like someone who had just woken up from a crazy night?_

 _...Dear God. I was socializing with everyone looking like a drag queen._

Trying to play it cool, I smiled and nodded. "Ha ha...thanks."

 _So embarrassing...argh._

"I didn't tell you my name, did I?" he continued, taking the spotlight away from me for a moment.

"No, you didn't."

 _Just keep smiling._

"Andy," he said. "Andy Biersack."

... _That name sounded oddly familiar._


	7. His Name is Andrew

"Andy?" I echoed. "Short for Andrew?"

"Yeah," he smiled. His smile was very charming. _I must've thought that before._ "Short for Andrew."

"OK, well…Andrew, it's nice to meet you. I hope you like our food."

"And Jude? Short for Judith?"

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah, short for Judith."

"You're the waitress here?" he questioned, shoving his hands into his black-jean pockets.

I shook my head. "No, not really…w-we don't have that many staff people so our chefs often switch with each other, like, taking turns in the roles here; some as waiters and waitresses, but they're still chefs, too. I hope it doesn't last this way for very long…"

He looked surprised for a moment. "So, you're a chef here?"

The shock along his features made me smile for some reason. Did I not look chef material? "Yes, actually. I'm the head chef."

With a slow nod, he said, "I'm impressed."

"It is impressive." Smirking, I turned around once again to go into the kitchen and give my team some commands. Looking over my shoulder as I placed my hand on the door, I said, "I'll come back and take orders if you guys want any dessert."

"All right." He sighed with a smile. "See you."

A strange, warm feeling began to bubble up inside me as I walked to Sean's station and handed him the notepad. I was thinking of Andrew and his pleasant smile, wondering about how I was actually interested in the thought of seeing him – just to take orders from him, but the small talk was fun. It made me forget about everything that was going on.

"You feeling better?" Sean's voice abruptly tore through my contemplation. "What are you smiling about?"

"Huh? Yeah," I shook my head but nodded just as quickly. "I'm feeling better."

"You must've met the celebrities." Sean teased. "They're pretty, aren't they?"

Laughing, I lightly slapped his shoulder, narrowing my eyes. "You're cute."

"At least you're not thinking about that _douchebag_ anymore."

His words snapped sudden realization into me. _Brad, huh…_

"Aw, come _on,_ Jude. Don't make that face." Sean frowned down at me, his green eyes revealing the sadness he felt about the topic. "Brad was a kid. He didn't deserve you and you most certainly didn't deserve him."

It was silent for a moment. I looked away, pressing my lips together, but Sean's words resonated in my head; it wasn't his phrases that cheered me up, rather, it was his Irish accent. After a second or two, I found myself chuckling.

"Yeah, I guess." I smiled. "I can go for my break now, right?"

"I think so. Don't forget to wash your face this time." He poked my forehead, _Itachi style._

"Jeez, I can't believe I went out there looking like this." Groaning, I glanced out from the counter. "Looks like the front door's free. If Matthew needs me to do anything, send Lauren out to get me if you're too busy."

"Will do."

It was strange how the front door was packed with fans and now it's abruptly empty. It made me wonder about the kind of fan base that Andrew's band led – they must've been an understanding bunch, unlike the stories I heard about Justin Bieber or One Direction fans.

I took off my apron and hastily made my way to the bathroom, washing off the makeup surrounding my eyes and making sure I don't actually _remove_ the mascara and eyeliner that Sophia applied. Afterwards, I waved eagerly at everyone in the kitchen, shouting out to them that I'd be back in ten minutes.

As I walked through the restaurant to the door, I looked around at the people that I served. Most of them were eating in silence while others had short conversations. My eyes traveled to where Andrew and his band sat, and I smiled widely at the sight; they were a bit louder than the rest, but they were laughing and having a good time as they waited for their order, which is what mattered.

* * *

I wrapped my arms around myself as I stood in front of the restaurant, deeply inhaling the cold, fresh air. Trying to focus on myself and surroundings—my heartbeat, the sound of my breath, the silence of the night—proved to be somewhat difficult with such a loud mind. There were images of Brad still lingering in the corners of my brain – why was he still present, I had no idea. But just as quickly, he was replaced with an image of Daphne.

Daphne was a lot more to worry about; the music she listened to affected her on levels she didn't understand. The people she surrounded herself with affected her even _more_. I wanted to help, but she felt so far away, despite the fact that I had only seen her hours ago.

"Hey there,"

A man's voice startled me and I slightly jumped with a low gasp. Turning around quickly, I saw Andrew, bending over with his arm on his stomach as he laughed, as if he had heard the funniest joke ever.

"That must've been hilarious to you, huh?" I asked, unable to stop myself from smiling and snickering with him.

He nodded, still laughing.

"Good to know that my terror amuses you."

"It's just so cute," he said, striding to my side while running a hand through his hair again. "You get scared from the littlest things."

"I wasn't scared," I looked ahead of me with a pout, crossing my arms. "It was just so quiet out here and you just popped out of nowhere. How else was I supposed to react?"

"The way a normal person would?" he beamed playfully. "By turning around and returning the greeting?"

"Pfft, whatever. I wasn't scared."

 _I can't stop smiling. My cheeks are actually starting to hurt._

"What are you doing out here?" he asked casually, pulling a cigarette packet out of his pocket and lighting up a fag.

Glancing at him for a brief moment— _absolutely_ not _judging him_ —I shrugged. "Taking a break from all the noise for a bit, I guess. The only time I can actually reflect on my life is when I go to church."

"Hmm," he took a quick sip, blowing out the smoke slowly. If I opened my mouth and blew out from my own breath, it would look the same from how cold it was. "I can understand that. It gets crazy on tour or when we're working on a video, or an album, too."

"That's completely different though." I chuckled. "You have to deal with a _lot_ more than I do."

He snickered as well. "Yeah, and as a band, each of us wants _some_ quiet time; it usually happens in the tour bus and we all agree to keep to ourselves for a bit. But that's completely short-lived since, well, we're noisy guys and _can't_ keep to ourselves for _that_ long."

"That's also a good thing," I didn't want to be rude and tell him how stressful that must've been; people deal with alone time differently, I supposed, and Andrew must've grown used to being around his bandmates. "Sometimes, _too_ quiet and _too_ alone can also be bad, I guess."

"Exactly, what with overthinking brings about."

"Mhm."

He had a very attractive voice, too, despite it being extremely scratchy and rough. That was probably because he smokes. _I wonder what position does he play in the band…?_

The thought brought up the subject. "You didn't tell me what kind of music you guys play?"

He hummed thoughtfully for a second, looking up at the night sky as he opened his mouth to speak. The smoke, as much as I hated to admit it, looked nice against the street and moon light.

 _Gosh, he is so tall. As tall as Cole, I think._

"Rock? Heavy metal? Along those lines, you could say." He looked down at me and his piercing gaze stunned me a little bit. _Daphne liked that kind of music_. "But if you've never heard of us or even _recognize_ me, I could guess that you don't listen to that kind of stuff."

He almost sounded mocking. "No, I don't." I said, as-a-matter-of-factly.

"Should I take a guess?"

"Go ahead."

"Well, you're blonde and you wear a lot of pink," I didn't like what he was saying; you couldn't exactly guess what someone listens to because of the way they looked like, after all. "I'm guessing a lot of pop, right?"

Although he wasn't wrong, I was still somewhat offended. "A little bit, sure."

Chuckling, he blew out the smoke loudly. "That was easy."

I rolled my eyes, trying to defend myself. "I said _a little bit_ , meaning, I listen to other stuff, too."

"Oh? Like rap?"

Forcing out a laugh, I put my hands in my coat's pocket. "A little bit of that, too, but mostly classical stuff, like classic rock."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"I grew up on Vivaldi and Bach mostly, with everyone else from the lot, of course."

"Mozart?"

"Of course Mozart was part of it." I looked up at him again. He glanced down to meet my gaze from time to time, but mostly kept his eyes at the sky, or at the road and cars in front of us. "As for rock…there wasn't much, but my dad was really into Guns n' Roses and The Eagles. My mom didn't much care for that stuff; the closest thing she'd listen to when it came to rock was The Beatles."

Andrew laughed. "That explains your name then?"

"Yeah, actually," I smiled in return. "They named me after a Beatles song. Wonderful, right?"

"That's pretty cool," Andrew grinned. "It's nice being named after a song – especially a Beatles song."

"Not always. Whenever people meet me, they automatically start singing 'Hey Jude', as if they were the first ones to do it to me."

It made him laugh again. I enjoyed hearing his laughter; heck, I never considered myself someone funny at all, but it was nice seeing him laugh at the mediocre things I was saying.

Then, he began to sing 'Hey Jude' as well. I groaned sarcastically, rolling my eyes at him. "You just had to do that?"

"You know I had to. And I was kidding, by the way."

"Huh?"

"I wouldn't judge you like that just because you wear pink and have blonde hair," he explained roughly, breaking in between the words briefly. "It's not right."

"Good. _Assuming_ is always bad, you know."

He chuckled heartily at the memory of yesterday. "I've learned my lesson."

I found comfort in the silence that followed after our words and giggles fell off the grid; it wasn't an awkward silence this time, it was simply the both of us enjoying the little time we had together. The thought continued in my head for some time, reminding me of the fact that I had to go back in the restaurant and prepare some food, take some orders and so on and so forth.

Suddenly, a group of three girls walked up to us, with broad smiles on their faces.

"Andy! Andy Biersack!" one of the females said. It was the most adorable thing ever, how happy his presence made them.

"Hey!" Andrew replied, greeting them with a wide smile of his own.

"Can we please take a picture with you?" another one asked. "We love you!"

"Of course," he grinned, bringing his arms around them as one of them stood ahead of them to take the picture.

"I can do it," I abruptly said. "Give it here."

"Aww," Andrew teased. "Thanks."

"Sure." I rolled my eyes, counting to three and taking the picture.

"Thank you so much!" the girls said, to me and to Andrew, and walked away, giggling loudly as they looked at the image. "Love you, Andy!"

"See you!" Andrew replied before looking to me. "That was really nice of you. You didn't have to."

"Yeah, I did," I shrugged. "Couldn't have one of them not in the picture. She might've regretted it later and blamed her friends."

"True." He chuckled, and it became silent again. He pulled out another cigarette, smoking it the next minute.

With a sigh, I walked forward, studying my face on the tinted car window in front of us.

Andrew didn't move from his position; if he had, I would've heard his footsteps as he walked away. But he stayed behind me, sucking on his cigarette, and it awakened a strange curiosity within me. Maybe it was the nice weather that made him stay – it didn't have much to do with me; why would it?

I fixed my lipstick, mindlessly staring at my reflection.

Just then, the lights from the inside of the car turned on and a man glanced up at me, raising a confused brow. I stiffened and quickly turned around, scuttling to Andrew's side as my cheeks burned in embarrassment.

"Oh my God," I whisper-shouted, shutting my eyes and putting my hands above my mouth. _I can't believe I'm laughing about this!_

"What's wrong?" Andrew asked.

"There was a guy in the car…and I was like, fixing my makeup and stuff _right_ beside him."

Andrew started to laugh once again.

"I swear," I continued, feeling content as I looked up at the black haired man. "I was probably like, looking straight at him! It was so embarrassing! Stop laughing, he's probably looking at us!"

" _You're_ laughing!" Andrew pointed out. "I can't stop laughing until you do!"

"Shh!" _I can't stop._ "Stop laughing!" _My cheeks hurt._ "Andrew!"

"Why'd you just call me Andrew?" he asked, but he wasn't angry about it. On the contrary; he was still laughing, just as much as I was, as he threw away the leftovers of his cigarette.

"I don't know; it just came out that way."

"Call me Andy."

"OK, um," I shook my head as I walked by him, my smile remaining. "I think it's time for us to go back inside, Andy. Your food may be ready."

"Right," he beamed in return, following me towards the entrance. "Will you be making dessert for us, head chef?"

I felt my cheeks warm up at the mention of the title. "Sure. What would you like?"

 _This feels…nice. But I still can't remember where I had originally heard his name!_


End file.
